I collect rocks. They are one of my favorite souvenirs to bring home from walks and vacations - finding them or buying them. I love learning about stones and imagining where they come from. Amusingly, I actually have several rock polishers in my art studio that I haven't even opened for whatever reason.
Polished, cut, worn, sharp edged - they fascinate me. Dull, shiny, sparkly - they inspire me. I can't entirely define why. I've run into more than a few odd looks when people learn about my habit of buying rocks on vacations. It seems strange and unnecessary to many, but no apologies. I love them.
I love them so much I have a long stone and boulder waterfall in my backyard. The boulders are cool or hot in the summer depending on shade and time of day - nature's air conditioners and heaters.
I have them around my house - bowls of stones of various colors, textures, and shapes and petrified wood boulders at my front door.
Stones have a peace about them and a certainty. They are never identical and each is special.
They tell different stories from different places, but they do so quietly. They don't scream the impression they make and they often require you quiet down to study them as you learn to respect their brand of beauty.
They are simple and spark wonder.
They help me collect my thoughts and center and they are one of mother nature's kind meaningful gifts - not to be under-appreciated.